Decisions
by brizo3
Summary: Oh, God. It's another post-'Threads' Sam/Jack fic. I know, I know...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: None of the characters or objects described herein belong to me, otherwise I wouldn't need to write on here. Suing not worth anybody's time as I don't have anything to give.

A/N : Yes, it's another 'Threads' aftermath story, for which I can only apologise. Read enough of them, thought I might as well have a bash. I must also apologise for the title, which is banal and uninspired, but trying to come up with something compelling and original is surprisingly difficult. Totally un-beta'd, so any mistakes are indisputably mine, please forgive me. Constructive criticism good, flames bad, and anything in between the two gratefully received.  
Takes place after the episode proper has finished, but before the fishing.

* * *

Jack stood on the crest of a small hill near the edge of the cemetery, gazing absently at the middle distance. It was an absurdly hot day, and he could feel the shirt of his Class A's sticking to his back. He shifted uncomfortably to try and relieve it to no avail. Behind him he could hear the low murmur of voices as the remnants of Jacob Carter's funeral attendees discussed family affairs in low voices. Carter's voice was conspicuously absent, and he glanced over his shoulder to check on her. She was stood there, dressed in her Class A's, the same as he, between her brother and sister-in-law. Jacob's folded flag was tucked under her chin and she moved her eyes between her two companions as they spoke, seemingly paying attention, but Jack knew better.

Someone moved across his field of vision and he returned to eyes front. He felt somewhat out of place, left here with only the Carter family for company, but he had promised Sam that he'd be there for her, and damned if he was going back on that promise now. For the thousandth time that day he wished for Daniel and Teal'c's presence. But Daniel was restricted to base after his second descension back to the land of mortals, and Teal'c was tied up trying to prevent the new Jaffa alliance from imploding in on itself. So it was just him. Him and the Carters. Although, judging from the now reduced noise volume behind him, it seemed as though the number of Carters had reduced itself since he last looked.

He glanced up at the sky, taking in the expanse of blue through the protection of his shades, and reflected on the irony of the sunny warmth of summer at a funeral. Did a man like Jacob Carter deserve something a bit more sombre, or would he have appreciated the cloudless sky? In all honesty Jack didn't know. Although he had spent time with Jacob, learned to respect the man, somehow funeral preferences was never a topic they had entered into.

Funerals... It had rained at Charlie's funeral, he remembered. There was very little he did remember about that day. Most of it had passed by in a blur of despair, recriminations, and, later, alcohol. But the rain, it had plastered his hair to his face and woven its way down his cheeks, crying the tears which he found himself unable to shed, locked behind his wall of stoicism.

There were footsteps coming from behind him, too heavy to be Sam's, and before he had time to try and tie the owner down any further Mark Carter appeared over his shoulder and came to stand next to him.

Mark ran a hand through his balding hair and turned to face him, "Thanks for coming, Jack."

"Not a problem," Jack turned himself to face Sam's older brother, "Least I could do." He paused. "I worked with Jake for a while. I respected him. Not coming was never even a thought. Especially because..." he tapered off, glancing at Sam from behind the safety of his sunglasses. It was pointless trying to hide it though, as Mark read his mind.

"Because of my sister."

Jack didn't say anything.

"Look," Mark continued, "I won't pretend to understand the relationship you two have, or the relationship you had with my Dad, but..." he sighed, clearly thinking through what he was going to say next, "I know you've worked together for 8 years, and Sam hasn't exactly said anything, but the impression that I've gotten is she wouldn't be dealing with this as well as she is if it wasn't for you."

Jack gave Mark what he hoped was an enigmatic smile, "She's strong. She doesn't need me."

"I'm not saying that she isn't, nor that if you weren't here to help she'd have instantly fallen apart." Mark glanced sideways at his sister. "But I think that you do help. And I think that she needs that, especially now her and Pete aren't together anymore."

Jack searched Mark's face for suspicion or hostility, wondering if he suspected Jack of having a hand in breaking up his sister and his friend. What he found was concern for his sister, along with a certain level of curiosity, which edged towards a knowing suspicion, but not a hostile kind. Jack wasn't entirely sure what to say, and settled for staring at Mark blankly, hoping that his face didn't reveal anything he didn't want it to. Mark stared back as best he could, unable to meet Jack's eyes through his shades, taking in the lines of his face, evaluating.

Mark gave up, smiling at Jack wryly, "OK, whatever, just..." he glanced at Sam again, then back at Jack with a steely expression which hadn't previously been there.

Jack recognised the look, had seen it before on the faces of both Sam and Jacob. Unwilling to fall out with Sam's brother, he lifted his hand and removed his sunglasses, looking Mark determinedly in the eye. Mark didn't continue his sentence, merely looking at Jack with something akin to a threat in his eye. He didn't need to say the words, Jack could hear them anyway... 'If you hurt my sister...' Jack inclined his head lightly, accepting the threat, but not expounding on the fact that if he were to hurt Sam, by the time Mark made it up from San Diego there would likely be very little of him left. Many of the men at the base would have squeezed him through a sieve by then.

There was a sudden call from Mark's wife, indicating that they should be leaving. Mark glanced at her to acknowledge then turned to look once more at Jack. Seemingly satisfied by what he'd seen he held out his hand, which Jack took.

"So, we'll see you at the wake tomorrow?" Mark asked.

"Yeah."

Mark nodded and turned away, heading back towards his wife. Jack replaced his sunglasses and watched him go. Mark embraced his sister then took his wife's hand and called towards his kids, currently chasing each other around the gravestones.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam watched her brother and his family walk away towards the cemetery's exit and sighed gently to herself. The image of the four of them walking together like that, holding hands, as a family, suddenly got to her, and for the first time today her mind wasn't on her father.

She had been so close. A couple more months and she would have been Mrs. Pete Shanahan. But not anymore. And despite the familial image her brother had just presented her with she couldn't bring herself to regret her decision. She hugged her father's flag closer to her chest. Dad. She smiled. In his last hours her father had tried to tell her she was making a mistake, as bluntly as possible without actually coming out and saying it. She had stonewalled him, flatly denying what he was saying. Even now, after 6 years of working closely with her father, being closer to him than ever before, she couldn't bring herself to admit to a mistake in front of him. It wasn't until he had died that she had taken a good hard look at what she was doing. And come up with the only answer she could. That she couldn't marry Pete. Not while she felt the way she did for Jack O'Neill.

Speaking of that man...

She turned towards him, where he was standing on a small rise fifteen metres away from her, the sun beginning to come down behind him, silhouetting his body.

One could have been forgiven for thinking that bumping into Kerry Johnson at his house would have made Sam even more determined in her decision to marry Pete. She had moved on, he had moved on, why mess with it? Right? But what actually happened was the opposite. What she had felt, stood there on his decking as Kerry had invited her to stay, didn't lend itself well to description. Jealousy wasn't the right word. She hadn't felt the little green monster rear up and instruct her to tear Kerry's hair out and beat her to a pulp. She hadn't felt a stab of possessiveness telling her to do the same thing. Both of these emotions had entered into it though, along with a sudden pang of despair.

What it had added up to was a feeling which had scrambled her brains around, confusing and enlightening her in equal measure. She had thought she was past this, which she evidently wasn't. She had thought she could live without Jack O'Neill, not General, not Sir, but Jack, in her life. The sensations she had felt had indicated otherwise.

Then she had gotten the phone call, and had changed tack abruptly, leaving little time to immediately assess what had happened in Jack's back yard. But when her father had passed, five minutes thinking made it all clear. Well, most of it anyway. She was a little unsure what to do now she had broken it off with Pete.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts she made her feet move, and headed towards where Jack stood silently. Coming up alongside him she inspected his face, but he seemed to have his 'General' mask on, and that on top of his shades meant she learned very little. He seemed to snap out of it though, and turned to face her, removing his glasses and examining her face.

"You okay?" he asked. She smiled at him lightly. He blinked, looking at her more closely, then seemed to accept her handling of the situation. She wasn't ok, and he undoubtedly knew that, but she was doing quite well, all things considered, and he knew that too.

He thinned his lips slightly and reached out his left hand to squeeze her upper arm gently, "You wanna stay here a bit longer or go home?"

She glanced back towards the new grave, "Let's go".

He nodded, and they turned, heading past Jacob Carter's final resting place on their way to Jack's truck, in which he had given her a lift to the funeral.

"Bye, Dad."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jacob Carter's wake was an odd affair. Held in the upper levels of Cheyenne Mountain, Sam felt like she had spent half the afternoon trying to stop her brother from asking people what their father had been working on. At some point though, Daniel had interceded, and had followed Mark around for the rest of the wake. Released from the infirmary for the event, Daniel had taken to his self-imposed assignment with the kind of zeal which had so irritated General O'Neill when it was directed at archaeological finds. Sam had certainly gleaned some amusement from the antics, as her brother had tried, both politely and rudely, to shake Daniel off, and Daniel had been stubbornly uncooperative and stuck to Mark like a limpet, interfering whenever Mark looked like he was about to interrogate someone else.

The fact that President Hayes had shown up towards the end of the afternoon had only increased Mark's desire to know the truth, and, once he had gotten over his shock, it had taken a combination of his own natural reticence in front of Hayes and one of Sam's hardest glares to keep him quiet.

She had given a short speech, as had General Hammond, and had attempted, at General O'Neill's insistence, to avail herself of the buffet, to little effect. Teal'c had returned from Dakara, and she had appreciated his rock-solid presence, as she had Jack's unspoken but constant support and occasional bad joke, and Daniel's limpet-like qualities and brotherly affection.

She was glad when it ended though, and she could leave the Mountain and see her brother off to the airport, still frustrated and cursing Daniel under his breath.

And after that... she didn't really know what she had intended to do, but somehow SG-1 had ended up at Jack's house, sprawled out and eating Chinese, drinking beer and talking over whatever drivel happened to be on the TV.

Actually, truth be told Daniel and Jack had been doing most of the talking. Teal'c was his usual stoic self, interjecting truth where he saw fit, and Sam had spent most of the evening in thought, mainly about Jack and what the next step was, or if indeed there was one.

"So," Jack started, in a purposeful tone which drew Sam's attention, "I've been thinking..." Daniel snorted into his beer, but Jack ignored him. "I've been thinking that we need some sort of 'We've Defeated the Goa'uld' celebration-thing. Waddya think?"

Sam smiled at him in encouragement, Daniel raised his eyebrows in interest and Teal'c, for those that knew him, looked mildly curious, "What did you have in mind, O'Neill?'

"Well, we've all got a lot of leave accumulated, some more than others," he paused to glance pointedly at Sam and Daniel, "so I was thinking that we should take a week and go fishing."

"Fishing?" asked Daniel.

"Sure, why not?"

"O'Neill, need I remind you that there are no fish in your pond?"

"Teal'c, need I remind _you_ that it's not the _fish_, it's the fish_ing_...?" He looked desperately at Sam. "Carter, help me out here will ya? Fishing? Yes?"

Although the tone of voice in which he said it was neutral, Sam was well aware of the connotation fishing carried within her own mind, and given her current state of wanting to come to some sort of decision with Jack, there was really only one answer. "Fishing, Sir? I don't know..." Jack's face fell, which made him look so much like a lost little boy that Sam was hard pressed not to smile at him reassuringly, "I haven't got a fishing rod." She finished teasingly.

Jack's face lit back up again, "Don't worry, Carter, I've got a spare I can lend you."

She smiled, "Then how could I say no, Sir."

"See!" Jack turned to Daniel and Teal'c, "Carter says yes, and we all know that Carter's always right. We're going fishing."

"Saaaaaamm..." Daniel whined at her, but he was obviously not that upset about it.

"Sorry Daniel," she replied, "I couldn't come up with another excuse."

"Hey!" Jack interrupted, "This is gonna be great. And don't knock it until you've tried it, Carter."

"May I 'knock it', O'Neill?"

"No, you may not."

"That's not fair, Jack." Daniel argued, the slight slur in his voice becoming increasingly pronounced as he worked himself up, "Teal'c has tried it."

"That was years ago, Teal'c's become more refined and cultured since then."

Daniel spat out the mouthful of beer he'd just taken back into the bottle and coughed a couple of times to clear his airway before opening his mouth again to argue the point, but Jack beat him to it, "Daniel, you're drunk. You blatantly have no idea what you talking about."

"First of all, I am not drunk," Daniel stated, the slurring giving him away, "and second of all, Teal'c is the most refined person I know."

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Gee, thanks Daniel." Sam interjected, projecting a hurt tone into her voice. Maybe she'd had more beer than she'd thought, or maybe it was the idea of finally seeing Jack's cabin, and of actually talking about _them_, but she felt the sudden need to join in with Jack's gentle ribbing of Daniel.

At her words Daniel swivelled his head towards her, confusion clouding his eyes. He opened and closed his mouth, seemingly unable to find the words. "I... I mean, of course you're...", he blinked heavily. "What?"

Sam glanced sideways at Jack, an amused smirk on his face as he winked at her. Yep, she was very much looking forward to fishing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	2. Chapter 2

A/N : Saw Jack's cabin on 'Men In Trees'. The camera panned over the water towards the dock and I thought 'Hang on a minute. That place looks really familiar.' Got really excited but didn't have anyone to share it with. Told my brother when I next saw him. He didn't really care but he's the only person around here who watches Stargate too, so at least he understood what I was talking about. So Jack's cabin here as I imagine it and (loosely) describe it is based off the interior of Marin's cabin in that self-same show. Except I added a bedroom.

Read on.

* * *

Sam didn't know what she had expected of the cabin. She had spent years determinedly trying not to imagine or think of it at all. Despite this, her mind must have created some sort of mental image, because she found herself pleasantly surprised by the real thing.

There were only two bedrooms, and she found herself forced into the spare by Daniel and Teal'c, who insisted that they were more than happy with sofa and floor respectively. The rooms were bright and airy, if a little unlived in, for obvious reasons.

They spent that first afternoon and evening relaxing on the dock, fishing, and exploring the woods surrounding the cabin, grilling steaks and baked potatoes for dinner.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_"This is great."  
"I told ya."  
"I can't believe we didn't do this years ago."  
"Yes, well, let's not dwell."_

_"So, Jack, have you ever actually caught a fish in this pond?"  
"Fish_ing_, Daniel."_

_"How's Ry'ac doing, Teal'c?"  
"He is well, Colonel Carter. He is soon to be a father."  
"Really? Wow, that's great!"  
"So, does that mean we get to call you 'Grandpa' from now on?"  
"Sir..."_

_"You back on our plane of existence for good now Daniel?"  
"God, I hope so."  
"So my placing a bet on you re-ascending again would be a waste of my money then?"_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When increasing cold finally drove them indoors they sat in front of the open fire, playing poker and maintaining the spirit of camaraderie which had descended on the cabin.

Sam was the first to retire to bed. Feeling full, warm and contented from the day she slipped surprisingly easily into sleep, given how excited she felt about the rest of the week. She drifted off to the murmur of the boys' voices from the living room, reassuring and comforting and reminding her of nights spent off-world.

She awoke early, drawing back the curtains to see a veil of mist clinging to the ground outside her window. Dressing, she crept out of her bedroom, through the kitchen and then the living room, stepping lightly around Teal'c and a snoring Daniel, out of the door and around to the dock. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon behind her as she stood on the dock, watching the mist swirl over the water of the pond.

There were light footsteps behind her, and accustomed as she was with the ways of her team she had no trouble identifying them as Jack's.

"You wanna sit?" he asked, and she turned to find him holding out one of the fold-out chairs they'd used the previous day.

"What about you?"

"Well, I'll just..." he stopped when she looked him in the eye, making it perfectly clear that she wasn't going to sit while he stood. "... go and get another one." He finished smoothly.

She smiled and took the chair from him, watching as he turned and headed back towards the cabin. She folded out the chair facing the pond and sat down. Was this it, then? The moment she'd been anticipating since she had broken up with Pete? He had broken up with Kerry, Daniel had told her. Of course, she'd had to tell him that Jack was seeing someone in the first place.

Jack came up behind her again, carrying his own chair. He placed it out and sat down with a slight groan, stretching his Jean-clad legs out in front of him. "Oh, um, you want coffee or something?"

He made to get up but Sam wasn't about to let him go, "No, I'm fine."

He lowered himself gently back down into the chair. "You sure?" She nodded. "Okay." He exhaled slowly and rubbed his hands together and they both sat there in silence.

Determined that one of them should say something, Sam opted for a seemingly neutral topic, "Daniel and Teal'c up?" Immediately after she'd said it she realised that the question served a dual purpose. Were they going to be interrupted?

"Teal'c opened his eyes when I went past, but he didn't look like he was getting up. Kicked Daniel to get him to stop snoring but he didn't wake up."

"Did he stop snoring?"

"Uh-huh."

She nodded, and suddenly silence was there again. She was struck by a sudden fear. He did still feel the same way, right? She thought that she had seen it in his eyes when they were sitting in the observation room. And felt it in his actions after her father had died. But sat here now she was suddenly assailed with doubts.

"Carter, there's something I need to tell you."

Oh, God. Had he anticipated her? Was he going to cut her off before she had started and tell her he'd moved on? Or was he thinking the same as she, was about to declare his feelings? The thoughts swirled around in her head until she didn't know what she was thinking anymore.

"Carter?" he asked. She started, realised that she'd been staring out onto the pond, on the verge of what had felt like a panic attack. She took in a deep breath and turned to face him, looking him in the eyes and mentally calming herself.

"Sorry, Sir. I'm listening."

He looked at her in concern, "You okay?"

"Fine, Sir. What was it you wanted to say?" Her voice was calm, and she hoped to God that the thoughts still at the back of her mind weren't showing in her eyes.

"Hammond's retiring."

Sam blinked. Okay. Not what she had been expecting. "Umm... wow. He deserves it."

"Yeah. He does." Jack looked down at his shoes, "He's done a lot of good for us at Homeworld."

Sam nodded, "Yes, Sir, he has."

"Thing is... They um..." He brought a hand up to rub at his forehead. He seemed to be nervous, unsure, an emotion she didn't think she'd ever seen on Jack O'Neill before. "They want me to replace him."

Sam felt her jaw drop open. "As Head of Homeworld?"

Jack simply nodded.

"Wow. Again. I guess. Congratulations, Sir."

"Yeah. Thanks." His response wasn't exactly ecstatic, and she leaned forward towards him.

"You're not happy about it?" She asked.

"Sure," he replied, unconvincingly, "I mean, another star, more money, more politicians... Who wouldn't be happy?" He looked back up at her, twisting his mouth wryly.

"I'm sure you'll do great, Sir."

He merely grunted at her in response. He looked her straight in the eye for a second then brought his hand up to cover his eyes, leaning back in his chair and taking a deep breath. "Dammit, Carter, I don't wanna go to Washington."

The full force of what was happening hit her. He was going away. To Washington. She couldn't imagine the halls of the SGC without him. She gave him what was probably a slightly watery smile, "We'll miss you, Sir."

He removed his hand suddenly from his eyes and leant forwards towards her. "We?" He asked, his eyes pinning her to her chair, emotions swirling within them.

Sam stumbled. "I... ah..." She felt as though she was on the edge of something huge, and she could either jump and embrace it or back away.

Suddenly he seemed to lose some of his intensity and sat back slightly, his eyes shuttering again. "Sorry, Carter, I didn't mean to..."

Sam jumped. "I'll miss you, Sir."

His eyes met hers again, unsure and wary, "I er..." He wet his lips with his tongue, but seemed to be uncertain what to say next.

Now she was on the path, however, Sam felt determined to see it through. The look she had seen in his eyes had been brief, but enough to reassure her that whatever was going on here wasn't one-sided. She glanced back out towards the water, screwing up the words inside her and intent on getting them out before her resolve failed her. She looked back at him,

"Jack," she started. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't say anything. "I think we should... I mean, I need to... Even though you're still..." She sighed and lowered her eyes. Three false starts. This wasn't going well. She knew what she wanted to say, kind of. The trouble was deciding what to say first, and how. There was still a tiny fearful voice in the back of her mind which whispered that she'd got it all wrong, that he didn't feel that way for her, and was preventing her from fully exposing herself. Her hands wrung together as she struggled to get a grip on her thoughts.

A hand appeared from the edge of her vision and moved to rest on top of her, squeezing gently, tentatively. Jack's hand. She stared at it, taking it in, as she had done many times before. And without looking up, without thinking about it too hard, she turned one of her hands in his, allowing their fingers to loosely tangle together. She closed her eyes, savouring the feeling, and squeezing his hand back.

Finally she looked up at him, to find him staring at her intently. She could just about make out his emotions, hidden at the back of the brown depths, but they came forward gently, as she forced herself to reveal all of hers.

She didn't know how long they stayed like that, staring into each other's eyes, but at some point they seemed to come to an understanding, an acceptance of the other's feelings, without either of them having to say anything. There was occasional hand-squeezing, in reassurance or encouragement, but no words.

Sam felt the knowledge that he felt the same flood through her, a warm glow which spread right down to her toes, and gave her the fanciful feeling that she could have floated off, if only his hand hadn't been anchoring her down.

But he was still going to Washington, and that fact was a blight on her currently rosy picture.

His eyes withdrew slightly and he glanced down at their joined hands, "Carter, I'm still your CO, will still be when I go to Washington. I don't see how..."

"I'll ask for a transfer." The answer came obviously and immediately to her. He felt the same, they'd waited eight years for this and dammit she was ready for this, she wanted this, whatever it took.

"Transfer?" he asked, a slight mirth appearing in his eyes, "Carter, where would you go? The SGC needs you, the Stargate program needs you. And even if it didn't, where could you possibly go where you wouldn't get bored in a week? After all we've done... you couldn't go back to a regular posting. You'd go nuts."

Reluctantly she had to admit that he had a point. She couldn't go back, not now she knew what was going on. She looked down at their still entwined hands, running her fingers along his, inspecting the knuckles as she had long wished to do, and thinking. He didn't say anything, but let her think, understanding that she needed to accept this herself. But the answer came again.

"Area 51." She murmured.

"Huh?"

She looked back up at him, "Area 51," she said again, louder. "I can still contribute, I can help with the technology, still be on call if they have any problems with the 'gate. It's perfect."

He regarded her sceptically, "Perfect? You won't be out there, kicking bad-guy butt. Can you live with that?" His tone suggested that he had his doubts.

"Never know until I try..."

He used his other hand to run through his hair, "It'll stunt your career."

Damn him, why was he being so difficult about this? "To hell with my career!" She wanted this, she wanted him, and over the past week she had become painfully aware how fragile it all was. He was here, now, and he was worth more to her than her career.

His eyes hardened and his hand tightened over hers. "No. You can't just throw it all away! You've worked damn hard to get where you are and I won't let you just chuck it. Your career is important."

That was it. "Not as important as you!"

He looked like she'd just hit him. His hand tightened again in hers and she gripped it back, looking him straight in the eye and showing him everything. He needed to understand. Did he think that he wasn't as important as her career? 'Cause he was damned wrong and she was going to let him know.

He broke the gaze first, turning to glare out across the water and still holding her hand in a death-grip. She continued to watch him as he worked his jaw, tensing the muscles there.

She placed her other hand over his and squeezed gently, "I'm going to 51. I want this to work, I want to give it a shot." She paused. "Do you?" The last question was said more tentatively then she had intended, her voice losing some of the steel of the previous sentence. But it seemed to get through.

He looked back at her, eyes now appearing angry, she knew, to cover his confusion. "Of course I do."

"Then why fight this?"

"You can't give up your career for me, Sam. What if you don't like it?"

She inspected his eyes closely, "Don't like Area 51 or don't like us?"

"Either," he said. "Both."

"If I don't like 51 we'll work something else out..."

"And us?" he asked, in a smaller voice than she had ever heard from him. His eyes withdrew too, though Sam could see the fear in them.

"That's not gonna happen." she stated.

"You sure about that?"

Sam went to reassure him, but realised that he probably wasn't going to just take her word for it. She turned his question around on him, "What if _you_ don't like us?" She didn't really think it was likely, but was determined to get him to see it her way.

He opened his mouth to reply, then caught his answer and shut it again, realising what she done. A wry smile came back to his face. "I'm not you."

"I know that."

"I mean... I'm old, cantankerous, grumpy. I leave wet towels on the floor, keep food in the fridge till long past its use-by date..."

Sam smiled and reached forward, pressing a finger against his lips to stop him. "Don't tell me any more. I wanna find out myself."

He blinked and reached up to gently remove her finger. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Gonna be difficult. I'm in Washington, you're in Nevada. You know what they say about long distance relationships..."

"What?"

He stopped. "Well, that they're... difficult."

"We'll manage. Just have to make up for it when we're together."

Heat flared in his eyes, and she knew exactly which road his thoughts had taken. It was eerily similar to the one down which her own were currently travelling. She held his eyes, determined that her gaze was not going to drop down, not even as far as his lips. He was still her CO, and she was not going to ruin eight years of restraint. No matter how much she really _really_ wanted to.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, depending on your point of view, Daniel chose that moment to come stumbling out of the door towards them. Jack and Sam snatched their hands back and leant away from each other abruptly. Daniel probably would have noticed, but he was busy completing a big yawn and stretch combination, and so missed everything.

When he had finished he said, "Good morning," sleepily.

Jack turned to look at her, and said softly "Yeah, I guess it is."

* * *

A/N : Okay, the thing I have discovered from this little enterprise is that Threads fics don't end. There is no place to stop. You just have to put something in which sounds like an ending, and hope that it'll do. But the rest of your head goes: 'But _then_ what happens?' At least that's what the rest of my head says. If people want more, I'll certainly give it a go, but if not then I don't think this is so bad.

Don't forget to review :)


	3. Chapter 3

A/N : As I feared, the monster doesn't sleep... Oh, and this chapter is more flashback than anything else, but I think it's all pretty clear. Let me know if it gets confusing.

* * *

The sand and salt flats of the Nevada desert spread out under Sam Carter like some strange yellow ocean, small hills creating waves and troughs in the imaginary water. She grinned to herself, twisting the stick in front of her and sending the souped-up F-302 she was flying into a 360 spin. As she came out of it she pulled the stick up, heading up into a tight circle and then diving down towards the ground. She pulled out of the dive at the last possible second, skimming the ground of the flats, sending sand and salt spraying in all directions.

It was far too long since she had been behind the controls of one of these, and the new version easily exceeded all experiences she'd had in the old one. The guys at Area 51 had been working on this for over a year, and it was soon to be rolled out to the fleet. The F302X. When she had gone over the specs with Jack he had summed it up as 'an F302 on steroids'. And it sure was. He had never flown one himself but she could tell from the tone of his voice how much he wanted to take it out for a spin.

"I don't know..." she had teased him down the phone-line, "We put you in one of these things we might lose it like we did the first one."

She had vivid memories of Jack and Teal'c test-flying the first glider. And racing after them in a cargo ship was not an experience she cared to repeat.

She would see him in a week. The first time for... a month and six days. It was going to be the 302X's big day. This time next week it would be flown around and paraded in front of the brass. The big important Generals who wanted to see what their new kick-ass fighter was capable of. The fact that one of these big important Generals also happened to be her, for lack of a better term, 'boyfriend', was, as far as Sam was concerned, a happy coincidence. Yep, that was him. The Head of Homeworld himself, Major General Jack O'Neill.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Flashback ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam rapped gently at the door of General O'Neill's office, entering when the gruff voice within told her to do so. The man behind the desk was focused intently on the piece of paper in front of him, hunched over his desk and tapping the end of a pen against his teeth.

"Carter," he said, glancing up at her, "Hey."

She smiled at him, "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

"Um, yeah, yeah." He put the piece of paper he had been staring at to one side then started rifling through the pile of sheets on the other side of his desk. Sam simply stood there, hands clasped lightly behind her back.

He looked back up at her, "You gonna sit down or what?"

She nodded and sat, hands now in her lap. He was still looking at her, hands buried in the tower of paper. "Geez, Carter, relax a little will ya? I'm not about to issue a court-martial, y'know."

She smiled, but it was a little strained. "I know. I'm sorry, Sir, it's just..." She stopped. It was just that after they had gotten back from the cabin, and she had put in for her transfer she had been a little... unsure how to act around him. And because of that uncertainty she had fallen back on the old fail-safe, professionalism. And quite rigid professionalism at that. But she wasn't sure if voicing her thoughts was the best option.

In the end it didn't matter. She might not have said anything, but he seemed to have picked up on her explanation all the same. He removed his hands from the pile, "Look, Carter, I know things have been a little... weird, since we got back."

Sam swallowed and nodded her head in agreement.

"But I'm sure that... you know... we can still be, er, friendly, around each other." He winced his way along the sentence. "You don't have to act like you've got a pole up your..." He paused and waved one of his hands towards her midsection. "We can relax, right?" He gave her an entreating smile.

She smiled back, deliberately unclasping her hands and leaning back in the seat. "Yes, Sir."

"Good." He inspected her for a couple more seconds and then went back to digging in the paper stack.

Determined to continue the vein of relaxation, she said "Don't you think you should have a better filing system, Sir?"

"Probably," he replied, "But this is far more fun. Aha! Got it!" He extracted a few sheets of paper from the pile and waved them around triumphantly.

"What is it?" She asked. He skimmed the paper across the desk towards her and she reached forward to stop them from sliding off the edge and turned them around to face her.

"Transfer papers," she said, staring at them.

"Yep. Signed, sealed and ready to go."

"Wow. It's only been a week."

"Rush job."

She looked up at him suspiciously.

"Hey, don't look at me," he defended, "General Arthur really wants you. When I talked to him he was practically salivating down the phone. I had clean my ear out afterwards."

Sam looked back down at the papers. "Wow," she said again.

"Tell me about it." His voice was softer, and she moved her eyes to his as he continued, "Carter, I know I'm supposed to say this and all, but I really mean it. The SGC is gonna miss you."

A big smile crept across her face. "Sorry to see me go, Sir?"

'Jack' suddenly flashed across the General's face before being reeled in, "Well, I guess that depends who you talk to..."

She knew exactly what he meant.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~* End Flashback ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The showers available at the hangar were adequate, but that was about all that could be said about them. Sam could have waited until she got back to her quarters, but flight-suits always made her feel sweaty and sticky, and she didn't want to wait a moment longer than necessary. The half-hour it would take her to get back to her quarters was a half-hour she simply wasn't willing to wait. Exiting the hangar into the setting Nevada sun, she let the slowly cooling warmth start to dry her hair as she made her way back.

Three checkpoints later she pushed her keys into the lock and opened the door into her quarters. The accommodation for the scientists here was buried into the hard sand of the desert, four floors down. Some of the scientists, mainly the civilians, complained about the lack of windows, but after working for eight years in the bowels of Cheyenne, Sam wasn't bothered by it. The civilian scientists complained about the checkpoints too, about having to prove who they were 'every dozen feet'. She would ask them why they stayed here, if they hated it so much, but the answer was obvious. The opportunity to work with alien technology, to work on the frontiers of science, was something which none of them were willing to pass up. Grumble they may about the conditions in which they had to work, but Sam would be willing to bet they would put up with a hell of a lot more if they had to.

She threw her keys on the table as she shut the door behind her. Passing the TV, she throw it on and made her way into the kitchen to make some coffee. Picking up the mug she smiled. The scientists in her lab at the SGC had given it to her as a going-away present. They'd utilised some sort of design-your-own-mug website and had come up with this. Splashed across the white mug was the equation used in the naquada reactors. It was certainly skirting the edges of a national security breach, but really didn't mean anything if you didn't know what it was, or how to apply it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Flashback ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Her last day working at the SGC was a Thursday, and it had been a jumble of emotions. Her scientists had thrown her an unexpected party in one of the labs, with small plastic cups of champagne. Only one, they all had to work afterwards.

All day people had come up to her, shaking her hand, patting her on the back, wishing her luck. Dixon, Reynolds, Feretti. The outpouring of support had left her feeling somewhat emotional. When it had come time to close her lab for the last time she had almost broken down.

SG1 had gone out for a meal, just her, Daniel, Teal'c and Jack. They had sat and eaten steak and reminisced about past times, and looked forward to future times. And now here they were, once again in Jack's living room, drinking beer.

"So, this is it, huh?" started Daniel.

"Daniel..." Sam protested. He was determined to make her cry before the evening finished, she was sure of it.

"I mean it, Sam. You're going to Nevada. Jack's going to D.C.. Teal'c's going to join the Free Jaffa. I'm going to Atlantis..."

"No, you're not," interrupted Jack.

Daniel pretended he hadn't heard him, "This is it. The end of SG1."

There was silence in the room.

"This is not the end, Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c eventually. "As long as we four are friends, SG1 will continue."

"Won't be the same," stated Jack.

"Indeed, O'Neill, but have things not changed since you became commander of the SGC? Yet we are still here."

"Good point, Teal'c," said Sam. She was feeling sombre enough. Leaving the SGC behind did feel like an ending. But she knew that it was also a beginning. She looked at Jack. He turned to face her and their eyes held.

Daniel held his bottle out. "To SG1."

They all reached forward and clinked bottles, toasting the team, and making a promise that whatever happened, they would always be together where it mattered.

Later that night Sam found herself out on the decking, leaning against the wooden edge and staring up at the stars. The door opened behind her and Daniel and Teal'c's soft voices wafted out into the evening air before being cut off when the door closed again. Jack came up to the side of her and sat down on the railing, facing the house. Sam didn't say anything, but waited.

Jack didn't say anything either, but after a few seconds of silence he slowly reached out a hand and grasped one of hers. She closed her eyes and gripped back. This was the first time they had properly touched since that time sitting on Jack's dock. They had avoided all contact since then, aware that it would only make difficult what needed to be done.

Jack blew out a breath. "So this is it, huh?"

"Guess so." She opened her eyes again, this time staring into the conifers which ringed his garden.

"Goodbye Colorado, hello Nevada. Washington."

"Don't say it like that. I'm emotional enough as it is..." Something caught in her throat and she cleared it.

"Something to get upset about?" There was a note of concern in his voice.

"Not really." She answered, "But apparently that isn't stopping me."

His thumb brushed over her index finger, "It'll be okay."

She knew that. It was just... leaving the Springs was harder than she had thought. It was the first time she had really settled anywhere. She changed the subject. "When does Landry get here?"

"Monday morning."

"How's he been doing?"

"What, with the whole 'aliens are real and we travel to other planets on a daily basis' bit? Pretty good. Thought we were having him on to begin with, but who doesn't?"

"You served together, right?"

"Yeah. Years ago. He'll do fine."

"Good. We need someone we can trust running the SGC."

Jack hmm-ed in response. He started running his thumb over her knuckles. "Wish I could go with you tomorrow."

She looked at him for the first time and smiled, "Me too."

He was staring intently at her hand in his, but turned at her reply to look her in the eyes. He smiled wryly, "Can't believe that when you finally get out of my command you'll be in another state."

"Only two states over."

"Not for much longer."

Landry was now fully up to speed with the situation in the galaxy, and all that was left was for him to spend a week at the SGC, basically following Jack around and seeing how things worked. 'Work Experience', Jack had termed it. With Landry to worry about there was no way Jack could get away to see her in Nevada. The irony was that their relationship would officially start when the two of them were in separate states, and wouldn't be able to see each other for some time. The Saturday after Landry's 'work experience' Jack was headed to Washington for his own crash course in 'How to be Head of Homeworld 101', conducted by General Hammond.

Sam wondered if there had ever been a more peculiar situation, the two of them together but not, in a relationship but never having seen each other since the relationship began. It was like some sort of farce. But it was her life, their life, and she was certainly willing to do it if it meant she could be with Jack O'Neill, even if it meant she couldn't be physically with him much of the time. That's what phones and video conferencing were for.

"We'll be okay." Jack's voice intruded on her thoughts.

She squeezed his hand, "Didn't doubt it for a second."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~* End Flashback ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She hadn't seen him since that night. They had talked on the phone a several times but that was it. The last memory she had of him was of standing in his hallway, Teal'c and Daniel hovering just outside the doorway for her lift home. He had given her a hug with his eyes, and they had parted with:

"Goodbye Carter."

"Goodbye Sir."

Which was oddly appropriate. Goodbye Carter and Sir, hello Sam and Jack.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The ringing of her cell phone awoke Sam with a start. It took a second for her to realise that the fabric only inches from her face was the back of her couch, and that she was sprawled out, head resting comfortably on a cushion, on that self same item of furniture. She turned herself over, hand fumbling for her phone on the coffee table, and glanced at the clock on her DVD player.

It was 0500. Still an hour of sleep left. Well, in theory, she thought as she glared at the still ringing phone.

"Carter," she said sleepily, turning the end of her name into a yawn.

"Sam," came the voice from the other end, "why didn't you tell me?"

"Daniel?" she asked. The reception was fairly bad, but she'd recognise that tone of righteous indignation anywhere. Relieved that the world wasn't ending she collapsed back onto the sofa.

"Well?" Daniel asked.

Sam struggled to remember the question, "Tell you what?"

Daniel paused, apparently considering his line of attack. "I was just talking to Jack..." he said pointedly.

"Okay..."

"Don't 'okay' me, Sam. He said that he was coming out to Nevada next week..."

"Yeah," she replied, closing her eyes again and shifting her position on the couch, "We're demonstrating the new 302."

"And...?"

"There's an 'and'?"

"I asked Jack about if he was going to see you and he was a little bit... coy."

"Coy?" she asked. "General O'Neill?"

"You know what I mean."

She yawned again. "Why don't you tell me anyway."

"Were you asleep?" he asked.

"You only just noticed? It is 0500, Daniel."

"Hmm. Anyway, you gonna tell me or what?"

"Nothing to tell, Daniel."

"Yes, there is," he stated, with absolute certainty.

"Daniel, we've been states apart for a month, what could possibly have happened?"

"Well I'm not looking for the sordid details or anything. But a little confirmation would be nice."

"What did Jack say?"

If Daniel noticed her sudden use of the General's given name he didn't say anything, "Nothing. You know what he's like. I got a couple of bad jokes about my overactive imagination and after that it was like getting blood out of a stone."

His voice had adopted a slightly hurt tone, and Sam took pity on him. "We're..." she paused, searching for the right words, "seeing what happens."

"You're together?" She could hear the smile in Daniel's voice.

"As much as it's possible to be when we're on opposite sides of the country. I haven't seen him since that night at his place."

"But you're still... Sam, this is great!"

Sam didn't say anything, but smiled into the cushions.

"Wait until I tell Teal'c." He stopped, "I can tell Teal'c, right?"

"Yeah, you can tell Teal'c." She figured it was unfair to keep it from him now that Daniel knew, "But, Daniel..."

"Yeah?"

"Keep it quiet, will you?"

"Why? You're not doing anything wrong are you?"

"No, but... this is difficult enough without having everybody else speculating about it."

"Yeah. Okay. The buck stops with us."

"Thanks, Daniel."

"No problem. I'll, er, let you go back to sleep."

The line went dead. Sam squinted at the clock. 0510. She closed her eyes again, determined to doze until her alarm went off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	4. Chapter 4

One week later:

The assembled Generals watched the 302X twirl around the skies like kids at a fireworks display, only without the 'ooh'ing and 'ahh'ing, though some of them were probably making those noises internally.

Jack watched the ship pinwheel around from behind his shades impassively. The pilot was Major Paul Bailey, whom Jack had never met, but Sam, on one of their too-short phone conversations, had given him the thumbs up. Well, what she had actually said was that he was an arrogant little sod, but a damned good pilot. Jack had to agree. About the pilot part anyway, he reserved judgement on the arrogant little sod bit, although Sam's opinion made him already dislike the man on principle.

Bailey conducted another impressive manoeuvre, and beside Jack General Francis Maynard whistled under his breath.

"Quite a show, huh?" Maynard mumbled at him.

Jack nodded absentmindedly. Thoughts of Carter had distracted him, and he had taken his eyes off the fighter to scan the crowd for her familiar blonde head.

He couldn't see her. She must be around here somewhere, surely? He carefully inspected the group of geeks who seemed to have gathered around General Arthur for protection, but she wasn't there.

"Looking for something, Jack?" Maynard asked.

Jack turned his head to look at him. The older General was still following the 302 around the sky, but apparently had eyes in the side of his head. Jack filed the information away.

"Nope."

"Right," Maynard said skeptically.

Jack forced his mind off Carter and returned to watching the aircraft dance around, but every so often his eyes returned to skim the people present, looking for her.

"I don't think Colonel Carter's here yet," Maynard observed.

Jack turned bodily to look at him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam was late.

One of the experiments in her lab had run away with her, and as a result the demonstration had started 20 minutes ago.

It didn't matter incredibly. The meet 'n' greet wasn't until after, but still, she hated being late.

She dashed along the corridor then up the small flight of stairs which would take her to the platform from which everybody was watching Major Bailey.

She got to the top of the stairs and stopped.

Jack was there.

Of course, logically she'd known that he would be, but that didn't stop something from running in small circles around her chest, periodically jumping up and down.

He wasn't watching the F302, but was staring rather intensely at the man standing next to him, who Sam recognised as General Maynard.

Her heart, oblivious to anybody else, ran out towards him and proceeded to kiss the living daylights out of him. Thankfully her legs were infinitely more sensible and took the rest of her towards General Arthur, who was standing at the other end of the platform.

He was surrounded by a plethora of civilian scientists, who seemed to be using him as a refuge from the scary General types.

"Sam!" He greeted her as she came to stand next him, grinning at her widely. When she'd first arrived he'd reminded her of Santa Claus: white-haired, rotund, jolly and welcoming with everybody.

He patted her on the back and she smiled at him, leaning against the railing at the front of the platform.

Ostensibly she was watching the 302, but out of the corner of her eye she was scanning the faces of the present Generals.

Jack she picked out easily, and Maynard standing beside him. She could see Vidrine, and Jumper, and someone she was fairly sure was General Schwartz. Colonel Emerson was there too, and she realised that she'd never seen him in his Class As before.

There was a man leant against the rail a little way down from her whose black uniform stood him out as a Naval Officer, against the blues of the Air Force and the green of the Army. Sam recognised him as Admiral Duckworth, current Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. Stood just behind him was a man whose insignia marked him as a Lieutenant-Commander, they were the only two representatives of the Navy present. The 302 shot forwards over their hands and Duckworth leant forward to follow its path as far as he could until it disappeared under the metal ceiling. Sam saw the Lieutenant-Commander jerk slightly, as if afraid that his superior was about to tumble over the railing. She smiled. Major Bailey brought the 302 back into their line of sight; Duckworth leant back, and his aide visibly relaxed, making Sam smile again.

The aircraft carried on away from them towards its hangar, and Sam realised that the demonstration was over.

"That's it for now, Gentlemen," called General Arthur as he made his way behind her and towards the other Officers. "If you'll follow me there are some refreshments available, you can relax, have a chat with some of our scientists. Major Bailey will be along to answer any questions as well."

Sam followed along with the other scientists, deliberately not looking towards Jack, who must surely have spotted her by now.

Down in the corridor under the sand the scientists picked up the pace, apparently about as eager to chat with the Generals as Jack would likely be about chatting to them. At any rate, they opened up a gap in front of Sam, who wasn't exactly dawdling, but wasn't in any rush either.

There were light footfalls behind her, then a foreign hand came to rest gently against the small of her back. Foreign, and yet utterly familiar.

"You were hiding from me," Jack accused.

She turned her head to look at him, finding him surprisingly close. "No, I wasn't."

"Where were you then?" He asked, eyes boring into her.

"I was late."

She dragged her eyes away from him, facing again towards the front. That hand pressing against her back was terribly distracting.

"Late, Carter?" He teased, "Didn't I teach you the value of time-keeping?"

She bit her bottom lip and smiled, "Apparently not."

They came to another flight of stairs which led them up into a sunlit conference room, large windows on three sides revealing the empty sand and blue sky of Nevada. The large table which usually occupied the centre of the room had been pushed back against a wall and was covered in an assortment of buffet items; small sandwiches and the like. The rest of the scientists already there had gathered at one end of the room.

Jack used his hand to move her forward as people started coming up the stairs behind them. Remaining somewhere near the top, Jack beside her, she turned to look at the people coming up, inspecting them in more detail than she'd been able to earlier. Those she'd meet before nodded at her, apart from Arthur who grinned at them both broadly, and Paul Emerson who gave her a friendly smile.

The last one up the stairs was Maynard, who looked at the pair of them then said "Found her, did you Jack?", glancing down at Jack's arm which disappeared behind her back.

Sam blinked in surprise, while Jack narrowed his eyes at the other General, who ignored him and carried on towards the buffet table.

She looked at Jack accusingly.

"I didn't say anything, I swear," he said, "the man's got ESP or somethin'"

She maintained the look, though more for entertainment than anything else. She doubted that Jack'd said anything, and Maynard hadn't gotten to where he was by being an idiot.

"I want food." Stated Jack grumpily, headed away from her towards the table. He got five paces then turned. "You comin'?"

She came forward to catch up with him, placing her hand subtly on the bottom of his arm as a peace-offering. He looked her affectionately in the eye, then led her towards the sandwiches.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Major Bailey wasn't as big of an ass as Sam had made him out to be, although he was still an idiot, and Jack suspected that the man was holding back on account of the company he was in. After all he wasn't stupid, and you could say and do things in front of scientists which you wouldn't dare to in front of top brass. He must have know that Sam was a Lieutenant-Colonel, but apparently that hadn't saved her from the umbrella of geek-dom.

The Major did however look at Sam in a manner which made Jack uncomfortable, and caused a feeling in him which reminded him of the first time they had gone to the Land of Light, and after, when he had attempted to punch Daniel's lights out in the Control Room. Luckily for Bailey, Jack had his hormones under slightly better control this time, and he refrained from leaping across the room to smack the man when his eyes wandered further south than Jack was comfortable with. Didn't mean he didn't want to though.

Sam had stayed close to him throughout the morning, and he was fairly sure that any pretence at a platonic relationship was shot to pieces. Friends weren't generally glued at the hip, they separated occasionally. He had left her once to go to the bathroom, but that was the only time they had spent apart.

He had pointedly ignored Maynard's smirk, which had only grown as time had gone on.

She had been introduced to Duckworth, who had been suitably impressed, and had glanced between them in such a way that convinced Jack that the Admiral, too, had cottoned on.

Eventually, after lunch, and a short presentation on the new specs of the 302, the assembled officals had made to depart.

Jack turned to Sam, "Wanna show me your lab?"

"You're not going?" She looked confused.

He shook his head at her, "Uh-uh. These lot are going back to D.C., I'm going to hop across to the SGC, poke my nose around, maybe annoy Daniel.

"So when are you leaving?"

He glanced down at his watch, "Well," he said, "technically the plane leaves when I do, not the other way around. Should leave at 1700 tops."

It was 1200.

She swallowed, "Five hours?"

He nodded. She simply stared at him.

He jerked his thumb in the direction of the departing Generals, "I'm gonna go say bye, okay."

She nodded at him dumbly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Five hours?

Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth, suddenly dry.

Oh God.

This, she hadn't anticipated. Frankly if she'd gotten a kiss from him before he left she'd have been happy. Five hours left scope for a whole lot more than kissing.

Just to reiterate: Oh God.

She watched him talking to the group of Officers as they prepared to depart, suddenly super-aware of every movement of his body.

He finished, and came back towards her with General Arthur beside him.

"So," started Arthur when they'd reached her, "I'm told General O'Neill will be staying with us a bit longer."

Sam nodded, "Yes, Sir." She managed to get out.

"Excellent," the General said, "I'll leave him in your capable hands, shall I?"

Sam nodded again, but couldn't bring herself to say anything. The image which his words had created had left her unable to speak.

Arthur clapped his hand onto Jack's back, "If I don't see you before you leave, I hope you'll come back soon," he told him.

Jack smiled, "No doubt."

Two sets of eyes followed the older man out the room, then snapped back to look at each other.

"So," Jack started in an innocent voice which did nothing to fool her, "where first?"

She looked into his eyes, catching the heat which lingered there and flowed into her own body. She turned on her heel and headed for the door, confident that he'd be close behind.

He followed her as she led him along corridors and through checkpoints, finally entering the accommodation block.

As they approached her quarters she faltered slightly. Jack's hand appeared in the small of her back again, and he leaned forward to whisper "Don't stop now," in her ear.

She didn't, although an army of butterflies seemed to have set up camp in her stomach.

Fiddling with the keys and entering her rooms, she only turned to look at him when she heard him shut and lock the door behind them.

He looked at her, his body swathed in blue, and her stomach tightened.

He reached up and unbuttoned his jacket, pulling it off and hanging it on the hook by the door.

She did the same with the lab coat she'd been wearing. Having nowhere to hang it, she threw it over the back of the couch.

He approached her slowly, reaching out when he got close enough to tug her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his back, burying her nose in his neck, as he did the same to her.

"You ready for this?" He asked her.

She smiled against his neck, "I've been ready for this for years." It was the truth, and no amount of butterflies was going to make her say different.

He pulled back to look at her, and brushed his thumb along her cheekbone. She closed her eyes, leaning in to the touch.

He exhaled and she felt the air sweep along her face. She moved to rest her forehead against his, and opened her eyes again.

He was staring down at her, his eyes a darker brown than she'd ever seen them, and she felt his fingertips caress the side of her neck, making her shiver in anticipation.

He briefly gave a sly smile, and held her gaze as he lowered his lips to hers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

An indeterminate amount of time later:

Her bed wasn't really made for two people, but as she lay snuggled up against Jack's chest she was finding it hard to complain about the cramped conditions. She stroked her thumb absentmindedly across his sternum, and simply breathed in the scent of him.

His right hand lifted from its place against her hip, moving up to trail soft fingertips down her upper arms. "You okay?" he asked her.

She smiled against his chest. Was he afraid that she would decide that once was enough? That she'd decided that one roll in the hay was enough to get him out of her system?

Because the truth was quite the opposite. She felt closer to him than ever, and a frivolous side of her was seriously considering tying him to the bed to stop him leaving.

She kissed the patch of skin next to her mouth and felt his breath hitch slightly.

She lifted her head up and rested the bottom of her chin against his chest, looking up at him. "Performance anxiety?" she teased.

He regarded her seriously, intense brown eyes looking through her brain and into her soul. Then he relaxed, and a crooked smile broke out on his face. "Should I be?"

She moved herself up his body slightly and leant in to kiss him, "Oh, I'd say you passed."

He broke his lips away from hers, "Passed?" he asked. He abruptly flipped her over, pulling her immediately under him so she didn't fall off the side of the bed.

He leaned his body into her and started pressing butterfly kisses along her neck, "As in, barely scraped through?"

Sam's arms wrapped around his shoulders and he lifted his head to nuzzle his nose under her ear, "Average?" he continued, "A 'C' grade?"

Sam was finding it difficult to come up with a reply. "A 'B', at least," she ground out.

"Mmm," he said, making her body vibrate, "how generous."

She swallowed. "Well," she told him, "you know what they say..."

She felt him smile against her skin. He lifted his head to her lips to kiss her deeply. "Practice makes perfect," he said, finishing off her thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was 1600.

"I should go," he told her.

Head tucked under his chin, she murmured sleepily. He leant his head down to kiss her blonde hair lightly then slid out from under her.

Her hands stroked along his skin as he moved away from her, keeping contact until the last possible second. He retrieved his boxers from next to the bed and pulled them on, before moving across the bedroom to pick his trousers up from off the floor.

He turned to look at her. She was stretched along the bed, bottom half hidden under a sheet and blue eyes watching him sleepily. She looked rumpled, dishevelled, and utterly appealing. Playboy, he decided, had nothing on Sam Carter. And she was in his bed, metaphorically speaking.

He rammed the trousers on harder than was necessary.

Glancing briefly around the room, he realised his shirt wasn't present, and moved through the door back into the main room, eventually finding both it and his tie on different areas of the floor, along with various articles of Sam's clothing which he didn't dwell on, lest he storm back into her bedroom, damn the helicopter waiting for him. Speaking of which...

He removed his cell phone from his jacket by the door and dialled a number while forcing one his arms through the sleeve of his shirt.

"Lieutenant, it's General O'Neill ... Yeah, I'll be there soon. 'Bout twenty minutes."

He snapped the phone shut and dropped it on Sam's dining table, pushing his other arm into his shirt.

A noise made him look up, and he found Sam exiting her her room, a white terry-cloth robe wrapped absently around her body. Her hair was still ruffled, and he clamped down on the urge to call Lieutenant Carpenter and tell him that he was going to be late.

She came forward to lean against the back of her sofa, watching him as he did his buttons up, shoving them into their respective holes with more force than finesse.

Damn, he wished he didn't have to go. He wanted to spend at least the next week in bed with her. But no, he had to be an important General, didn't he? Places to go, people to see. He couldn't wait until their honeymoon so he could -

He stopped thinking abruptly, pausing with his tie halfway over his head.

Honeymoon?

Had he really just thought that?

His stomach started to churn nervously.

"Are you okay?"

He snapped his eyes to Sam, "Huh?"

She glanced up at the tie still stretched above his head, concern in her eyes.

He looked up at the tie, then brought it down behind his neck, "Yeah, fine. I, er... 'S nothin'"

He straightened the tie out and flipped one side over the other, looking down at the strip of material.

As he moved on to the knot he realised his hands were shaking slightly. Marriage? He fumbled the knot.

Sam's hands appeared in the edge of his vision and she grasped the ends of the tie, pulling it gently out of his hands. He let her take it, and watched as she starting knotting it again.

"You sure you're okay?"

He glanced back up at her. She was looking at his tie, but he could feel all her focus on him.

"Yeah," he told her, forcing himself to calm down, "Just... had a thought, that's all."

She glanced up at him briefly, "Must have been some thought."

"Yeah," he said truthfully, "It was."

Now the thought had grabbed hold of him he wanted to ask her now. Wasn't really the right time though, and he held back.

A ring. He needed a ring. His mind spun immediately to the last ring she'd been offered, the one he'd only really seen once. He pushed the image out of his mind.

_She's not with him any more._

No, she was with him, and he needed his own ring. Something special.

Abruptly he realised that she'd finished with his tie, and was now stood in front of him, palms resting on his chest.

"I, erm, I'll call you."

She smiled and nodded.

"You free Monday night?" he asked her.

She nodded again, "I am if you are."

"Cool. Usual time?"

"Yeah."

"So, I should..." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the door. Then he turned and grabbed his jacket from the hook it was resting on, pulling it on.

He fastened the buttons on the front and looked back at her, "I, er..."

He gave up talking as a bad job and stepped forward to kiss her, resting his hands on her shoulders.

Her hands came up to grip at his jacket, and he deepened the kiss lovingly. There was no time for lust, but he poured as much emotion into the kiss as he could, feeling her return it in equal measure.

They broke away, breathing slightly heavier, and rested their foreheads together.

He moved one of his hands up to cup her jaw gently, looking down into her eyes, "I love you."

Her jaw tightened under his fingers, and her eyes darkened, emotion swirling within them.

She swallowed and moved one of her own hands up to his neck. "I love you, too."

Jack exhaled shakily, his body tingling. "Good." He frowned, "Er, I mean..."

She smiled at him and he stopped. "You know what I mean."

She bit her bottom lip and nodded. He simply stared at her.

"You should go," she told him softly.

"Right." He backed up from her reluctantly. "I'll speak to you soon." He turned away and took the couple of steps to the door.

"Jack?"

He took his hand off the door handle and looked back at her. She was standing a step away from where he'd left her, holding his cell phone up, waving it around slightly.

"Oh."

"Looking for an excuse to come back?" she asked teasingly.

"I need an excuse?"

She shook her head, "Never."

He smiled. "Then I'll take it with me."

She held it out and he took it carefully. "Thanks. Bye."

"Bye."

He turned back to the door, finally leaving.

He strolled down the corridor outside with only one thought on his mind.

_Ring._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam collapsed on her sofa and stared at the ceiling.

Oh, God.


End file.
